Lauren worked hard for Frank, flying in and staying for days whenever there was a changeover of guests.

  Most of the clientele were rich old men from Europe, so when she saw Brock, she was caught off guard. He looked a little older than her twenty years, but it was tough to tell with the tree planter beard. He was there with his dad’s company, a bunch of rich cronies that had rented the entire lodge for a week.

  That day, the snow was falling in heavy curtains down around the lodge. The weather conditions had rapidly deteriorated to the point where the choppers couldn’t fly, and Lauren was going to have to stay the night at the lodge. When the scruffy young man invited her to play cards, and listen to music in his room, she had declined, but Frank had overheard and told her to go and have some fun.

  She had never meant for a game of rummy and a night of Pearl Jam tunes to change her life, but it had and it did.

  She woke up and rolled into the hard body of Brock, the tree planter, and the smell of pine and musk that met her was a smell she would never ever forget.

  “Good morning,” he whispered.

  “Is it morning?” she replied. The curtains were drawn in his room.

  “Almost,” he whispered. “I get up at five every day. This is my morning.”

  “Me too,” she smiled.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He ran his thumb over her cheek and pulled her in close to kiss her gently on her lips.

  She had felt the lodge’s sheets a million times before, but never once against her naked body. The thousand thread count cotton felt like silk against her skin. She ran her hands up and down the fabric while Brock kissed along her jawbone, his beard tickling her neck.

  “I think she’s coming to,” a voice said.

  As she continued rubbing the sheets, they started to feel rougher under her hands. She giggled as she felt Brock’s breath tickling her ear.

  “Lauren.”

  She snapped her eyes open. The voice was a man’s, but it wasn’t Brock’s. She winced as her eyes were assaulted by the fluorescent lighting of the hospital room.

  “Lauren.” The voice spoke again. She squinted and saw Dr. Dupont’s face slowly come into focus. She felt his hands on her forehead, his thumbs holding her eyes open as he flashed a light into each one of them. “You are in The Chance Rapids hospital. You fainted,” he said.

  Tears welled up in her eyes as the pre-dawn light of Brock’s room at the heli-ski lodge disappeared into the burning bright lights of the emergency room. She wanted to close her eyes and go back to her dream. She wanted to go back in time to that night with Brock.

  Brock. Shit.

  She sat up. “Oh, my god.”

  “Relax, Lauren.” Dr. Dupont gently eased Lauren back down onto the flat pillow of the hospital bed. “We are going to keep you for some monitoring.”

  “How did I…” she looked around the room.

  “How did you what?” Dr. Dupont had slipped a blood pressure cuff on her arm.

  “Get here?” she squeezed her eyes tightly. The last thing she remembered was the meeting at the café.

  “Ambulance,” the doctor replied. “I’ve already called your sister.” Dr. Dupont was new to the community, and it was no secret that he had a major crush on a certain local realtor.

  “I’m fine.” Lauren pulled the heart rate monitor off her finger.

  “You probably are,” Doctor Dupont said. “But we need to make sure. And I need someone to watch you for at least twenty-four hours.”

  And you’ve got a crush on my sister, Lauren thought to herself.

  Then it came to her, faintly at first, then grew louder, that Pearl Jam song. The monitor started to beep like crazy and she felt her breaths coming faster and faster.

  “Oh, my god,” she whispered.

  Doctor Dupont looked to the monitors. “I’ll get you a Xanax.”

  “It’s not…” Lauren started, but the doctor had already rushed off.

  “Anxiety,” she finished.

  Lauren relaxed back down onto the hospital bed. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure up Brock’s face but gripped the sheets in frustration when she couldn’t picture the details of the young tree planter. She squeezed her eyes tightly trying to rid the image of the slick smooth-faced businessman that appeared instead. Baxter’s eyes were crinkled and there were a few hints of gray in his short dark hair, but the eyes. The tree planter’s eyes sparkled just like that of the businessman. The heart rate monitor beeped as Lauren’s beats per minute shot up. She snapped her eyes open as the hospital door clattered open, but it wasn’t the doctor returning. It was Charlotte.

  “Lauren,” Charlotte rushed to the bed. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Lauren pushed herself up on the bed. “Get me out of here.”

  Charlotte rested her hand on Lauren’s forearm. “Hold on. The doctors told me that you fainted.”

  “So?” Lauren shook her sister’s hand from her arm.

  “So?” Charlotte’s eyebrows practically shot up into her hairline. “You don’t faint.”

  “Maybe it was something I ate,” Lauren murmured. “And Char. I’m fine.” Lauren pulled the heart rate monitor off her finger, but not before Charlotte noticed the 100 bpm.

  “The heart rate monitor says otherwise,” Charlotte took the plastic device and clamped it back on her finger.

  “Listen,” Lauren snapped. “I’m fine.” She pulled it off again and set it on top of the machines beside her bed. “Dupont just wanted you to come in so he could flirt with you.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that’s not the truth.”

  Both sisters looked to the door as Dr. Dupont stepped back into the room. The new doctor had caused quite a stir in Chance Rapids when he arrived. The man could’ve stepped off the set of a soap opera, and all of the single women in town had lined up to take the open spots in his roster. He brushed his sandy brown hair back and smiled when he saw Charlotte in the room, redness rising up his neck from the collar of his shirt.

  “Dr. Dupont.” Charlotte shook his hand.

  “Miss O’Hare. I’m glad you’re here.”

  Dr. Dupont picked up the clipboard from the end of Lauren’s bed. “How are you feeling, Lauren?” he asked.

  “Great,” Lauren said. She peeled the sheets back. “Can I go now?”

  “Hold on a minute,” he said as he shook his head. “Your blood sugar appears to be stable, and all of your vitals are good.”

  “What’s the hold-up?” Lauren asked. She was starting to get frustrated and wanted to get the hell out of that hospital.

  “It’s our hospital protocol.” He turned to face Charlotte. “She can’t drive. And she’ll need someone to keep an eye on her.”

  “Do we need to wake her up throughout the night?” Charlotte asked. It was a valid question, the level of precaution usually relegated to concussion patients.

  “If she had head trauma, yes, but the ambulance attendants said that someone caught her before her head hit anything.”

  Lauren remembered the coffee shop spinning before she blacked out. “There was someone playing the ukulele,” she tilted her head, trying to remember if there was a band at the coffee shop.

  “You’re free to go, Lauren.” Dr. Dupont scribbled some notes on her chart. “Keep up with the electrolytes and try to not work too hard.”

  “Good luck,” Charlotte huffed. “She’s the lead counsel in opposition to the Sugar Peaks Mountain Development.”

  “That might explain it.” Doctor Dupont rubbed his chin. “Charlotte, you make sure that she takes it easy. Stress can do strange things to the body.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Charlotte said. “Thanks, Doctor.”

  Doctor Dupont stepped back and his heel caught on the leg of the bed. His arms flailed, but he managed to spin on his heel and catch his balance before he fell to the ground. Lauren looked at Charlotte and shook her head. This man was literally tripping over himself in her sister’s presence.

  * * *

  Lauren squinted as Charlotte’s car emerged into the light of day as they entered the Sugar Peaks side of town. The local radio station had issued a weather warning, but Charlotte lowered the volume when they started into their corny jokes.

  “What did you mean about the ukulele?” Charlotte asked. “Are you really losing your mind?”

  Lauren rubbed her forehead. “It’s so weird. Every time I try to remember what happened, I can just smell the coffee beans and hear a ukulele playing.”

  Charlotte kept her eyes on the road, but Lauren could see her sneaking glances at her from behind her oversized sunglasses. “So, you were getting coffee and fainted.”

  “No, I was having a meeting. A business meeting,” Lauren quickly corrected.

  “Right, with the developer,” Charlotte said. She steered the car onto her wide heated driveway and put the car into park. She pulled her sunglasses off and turned to face Lauren. “Maybe the doctor is right. This case might be a bit much for you. Can you get some help?”

  The heat rushed to Lauren’s face. “I can handle it.”

  “Well, your medical records say otherwise,” Charlotte said. “Look, Lauren. I know what stress can do to a person. I just don’t want you to get sick.”

  Lauren sighed. She knew that her sister was just worried about her.

  “Eddie Vedder,” Lauren said.

  “What?” Charlotte’s brow was knitted.

  “There wasn’t a live band at the café. The developer. His ringtone was a song by Eddie Vedder.”

  “The one from that movie?”

  “Into the Wild,” Lauren murmured.

  “Lauren,” Charlotte pointed at her. “Your hands, they’re trembling.”

  Lauren held her hands out in front of her and sure enough, they were visibly shaking.

  “Let’s get you inside,” Charlotte said. She hopped out of the car and ran over to the passenger side to help Lauren into the house.

  Once Lauren was settled on Charlotte’s sofa, the fireplace warming the great room, Charlotte delivered her a cup of tea and sat down beside her.

  “I’m worried about you,” Charlotte said.

  Lauren sighed. It wasn’t stress. It wasn’t anxiety. The biggest secret of her life, one that had been dormant for ten years, had just come alive in the very worst way possible. “Charlotte, I have to tell you something and you’re going to think that I’m crazy.”

  Twelve

  The dining room table was layered in architectural renderings and topographical maps.

  “Whoa, boss, what’s all this?” Thomas asked as he walked into the room wearing a plush white robe.

  Baxter looked up from the maps. “Someone’s taking casual Friday to a new level,” he laughed.

  “Oh, this?” Thomas chuckled. “We’re talking strategy in the hot tub.” He pointed to the steamy patio doors. “I could get used to this office.”

  “Looks like you already are.” Baxter didn’t care. As long as they were getting work done, they could run around naked with flower crowns on their heads. He pointed to the maps. “I’m trying to figure out how to keep the density of the project, with a little less sprawl into this…” He pointed to the grizzly bear habitat.

  “Oh, come on. It’s not going to come to that,” Thomas scoffed.

  Baxter sighed. He knew that Thomas was right. The town, the advocates, they could all fight them, but at the end of the day, Caldwell International had millions more to spend on the fight. “But what if she’s right?” Baxter asked. “What if this project causes serious environmental damage?”

  Thomas sighed. “There’s always a cost to development, Bax.” He pointed to the 3d model. “If you’re developing some kind of conscience, why not look at the economical impacts of the project. Once we’re done with this place, you’re not going to recognize this butt-fuck middle of nowhere town.”

  “Do you think that’s what’s best though?” he asked. His question wasn’t addressed to Thomas. He knew his executives’ position, mow down the trees and bring on the concrete, and for the first time in a long time, he could see the impact Caldwell International made in real life. He looked out the window at the mountain peaks, the cut blocks where the loggers had clear-cut were scattered like patchwork across the mountains. His executives had no idea that their fearless leader had once been the black sheep of the Caldwell family. That he had spent his teenage years running away from the extravagance of their billion-dollar life to the solitude of the mountains. Every tree he planted gave him hope that somehow, he was offsetting the damage his family was inflicting on the environment.

  “Who cares?” Thomas grinned. He raised his coffee mug at Baxter and padded out to the hot tub in his spa slippers.

  Baxter sat down at the table and pulled up Lauren’s report. Attached was her environmental and economic report, prepared by one of the best firms in the state. His assistant had provided him with the executive summary, but now, Baxter pulled on his thick black-framed glasses and started to read the two-hundred-pages of technical details.

  As he read the words, he could hear Lauren’s voice as though she were sitting beside him, reading the findings, imploring him to listen to her. Baxter picked up his phone, typed in a quick text message to Lauren and then deleted it. By the time he finished reading the report, he had typed and deleted nine text messages to Lauren.

  Was he a coward? Should he have gone to the hospital with the unconscious woman? He had never seen anyone faint in real life before and it had scared him. Every fiber in his being wanted to call her, to make sure that she was okay. One minute she was yelling at him, the next she was crumpled in his arms.

  Are you okay? Just checking in he typed. He held his finger over the send button. Getting too close to Lauren would be bad for everyone involved, especially his company. But a gentleman would check in, right? He inhaled sharply and then clicked delete.

  He needed to keep his enemy at arm’s length.

  Deleting the message was a business decision. One that would keep his company safe. That’s what he told himself as he slid his phone into the pocket of his leather briefcase. Deep down, he knew that there was only one person who could unravel him, only one person who could ruin everything he’d worked so hard to achieve. He was not only going to have to fight her every step of the way, but he was also going to have to fight his desire for her. Despising, maybe even hating her, was the only way to keep his company, and his heart, safe.

  Thirteen

  Charlotte’s phone vibrated. “Don’t you need to get that?” Lauren pointed to the phone that had migrated its way to the edge of the glass table.

  Charlotte eased onto the sofa. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Lauren squeezed her hands, wringing them in her lap. She didn’t know where to start. “Something weird happened today,” she said.

  “You think?” Charlotte said. “You passed out cold and woke up in the hospital.”

  Lauren still couldn’t believe what had happened. “It isn’t exhaustion, or work, or stress.” She took a sip of her tea. “Well, it might be stress, but it’s not about work or Sugar Peaks. Actually…” she paused. “It is kind of about Sugar Peaks…” her voice petered out.

  “Spit it out,” Charlotte said.

  Her hands shook as she held the mug, the tea precariously close to spilling on Charlotte’s expensive sofa. She didn’t know how to explain that she was seeing things, that ghosts from the past had shown up in Chance Rapids. “Do you remember when I took the cleaning job at the heli-ski lodge?”

  “Of course,” Charlotte nodded. “Mom was sick, and you had to.”

  Lauren took a sip of her tea. “I told you that I didn’t know the name of the guy that got me pregnant.”

  Charlotte’s eyes grew wide. “You knew?”

  Ten years earlier, Lauren had decided that she was going to raise Tabitha on her own. She had thought about trying to find the tree planter, but the only thing she knew about him was that his name was Brock. “He was a guest at the lodge. I knew his first name. That’s it.”

  “Lauren,” Charlotte gasped. “Frank could’ve found him.”

  “That’s the thing.” Lauren looked down into her Earl Grey tea. “I didn’t want to find him.”

  Charlotte sat up a little straighter. Lauren knew that she wouldn’t understand. The two of them, even though they shared DNA, were not cut from the same cloth. “He could’ve helped you.” Charlotte reached out and grabbed Lauren’s hand. “What if…”

  “What if what?” Lauren pulled her hand from her sister’s grip. “What if he wanted her? I was working two jobs and barely scraping by. What if he had taken her away from me?”

  “I didn’t think about that,” Charlotte said. “I just saw how much you sacrificed, how hard you worked.”

  “It was my choice,” Lauren said. “I couldn’t risk losing Tabby. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “I love Tabitha too,” Charlotte said. “But Lauren, your life was so hard. Imagine what you could’ve done. Where you could be now.”

  Lauren knew that her sister was coming from a good place, but it didn’t soften the harshness of her words. “Where I could be now?” She couldn’t meet her sister’s judgemental gaze.

  Charlotte sighed loudly. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “I may not have millions of dollars in the bank or an ostentatious mansion,” Lauren said gesturing around the huge great room, “but I’m exactly where I want to be, I wouldn’t change anything, Char.”

  “Okay,” Charlotte conceded. “What does this have to do with what happened today?”

  “I think that I saw him.”

  “Tabitha’s father?” Charlotte whispered.

  “It can’t be, but…”

  “At the coffee shop?” Charlotte interrupted.